


A Dream World

by RunawayWhispers



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Confusion, Dementia, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forced Sedation, Illnesses, Love, M/M, Minor Violence, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 14:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayWhispers/pseuds/RunawayWhispers
Summary: *Not overly violent I don't think, I just wanted to tag it to be safe and give people fair warning.*“Yuri,” a soft voice called from the bedroom door. Behind it, peaking into the room was the same elderly man from before. Except now, he could make out the features of his face. The oceanic eyes, the pointy nose, the heart shaped mouth.“Victor,” he whimpered, unsure of what was happening. “Victor what’s going on?”The old man stepped into the room, distraught at the sight of his lover in distress. “You’re not very well,” he sighed, moving to stand in front of his lover. “You’ve been ill for some time now Yuri.”“I forgot who you were,” the Japanese man sniffled. “Have I done that before?”Victor nodded solemnly, linking their fingers together. “Sometimes.”





	A Dream World

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Surprised to see something without smut? ha you're telling me.
> 
> Anyway, this was based on a script that I wrote for my university course that never went anywhere so I thought why not do something with it? It was partially inspired by a family member of my own, though obviously adapted to Yuri and Victor. Now there will be slight details that may seem odd or as though I've not thought them through but they're there for a reason!
> 
> I do hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you very much for taking the time to read it. I appreciate it.

The city skyline was alight with the hustle and bustle of thousands of lives, each one living their own individual life next to each other, but completely unaware of one another. In his own apartment, Yuri Katsuki, first place Ice Skater in the world’s male championship, was carefully cutting up on onion on his chopping board. As he stood watching the blade slice the ingredient into different pieces, his body vibrated with excitement for the night’s events.

Six months ago, he had won first place against his husband in the world figure skating competition, trumping his lover after a decade of success, and showing the older man the true skill they had both worked hard to unlock. Six months ago, Yuri felt as though he had finally proven himself worthy of his Russian love’s affection, and finally allowed himself to admit to his own feelings that had plagued his heart since childhood.

His intentions, after the competition, were to propose to the older man on the ice. The buzz of the win in the moment had completely disrupted him however, meaning that Yuri hadn’t taken the grand opportunity as he had wanted. Over the past few months, their lives had been filled to the brim with interviews, press releases and moving overseas to settle fully into domesticated life. It was Yuri’s dream life all coming together in one swift movement, barely giving himself time to fully understand the extent of how much his life had changed.

Tonight however, he had something special planned. Tonight was the third anniversary of the first night Victor had travelled to Japan to coach him. It marked a night in Yuri’s life that changed the route he was travelling down forever, and the Japanese skater couldn’t be more thankful. To celebrate, he decided it would be the perfect night to make his commitment official.

He had of course, already committed to Victor. He had made a promise to Victor in Barcelona two years ago. The rings were for luck, but deep down, they both knew it was a promise to each other as much as a thank you. Tonight however, it would be different. It would be real. He had waited this long to propose, and he was going to do it right.

Beside a photo of Makkachin, the second love of his life, he dropped the chopped onions into a bowl and grabbed another of the ingredients he had left to finish. Once done, he grabbed the pork cutlet and seasoned it with salt and pepper, quickly adding a dusting of flour on top. He grabbed for the bowl of beat egg yolks and pulled them closer to him.

All his mind could focus on was what he was going to say Victor. He knew as a pair they had always had difficulty being honest with their true feelings, and often miscommunicating what they felt for each other. This wouldn’t be the case when Yuri got down on one knee. He wanted to say the right thing. Victor always knew how to make him feel special, feel cherished and adored and that’s what Yuri wanted to gift to him on this occasion.

He placed the pork into the bowl of yolk and soaked it, quickly removing it once completely covered and moving it to the bowl of bread crumbs. Everything was seemingly going to plan. When he heard the door however, he panicked. Victor was home too earl and would ruin the surprise altogether.

He quickly reached for the box of black satin and shoved it into his pocket, cautious not too ruin the exterior before he even had a chance to give it to his lover.

“Yuri,” Victor called, entering the kitchen without hesitation, smiling as his eyes glanced over the meal being prepped. Beside him, Makkachin came charging in, his tongue lolling about. “Oh Yuri! How amazing!”

Yuri blushed and removed the pork from the bread crumbs. He moved across the kitchen to place it on the already low heated pan, smiling as the sizzle filled his ears. His attempts to act natural seemed to be working, but Victor quickly grew clingy.

The older man stalked across the kitchen and wrapped his arms around his lover, taking slight amusement as Yuri yelped at the feeling of his fingers against his skin.

“Victor!” Yuri scolded, surprised. “Why are your hands so cold?”

“We live in Russia Yuri,” Victor asked, rolling his hand. “It gets cold outside.”

“That’s no excuse. You should wear those gloves I brought you.”

Victor pouted as he hugged his loved tighter. “But then I’d have no excuse to wrap you up in my arms all night.”

Yuri shook his head, spinning in the older man’s grip to face him. “You don’t need an excuse,” he reasoned with an unimpressed purse of the lips. “You know I love you holding me. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t wear the gloves I gave you.”

Victor brushed the conversation off with a quick glance at the food in the pan. “Как вкусно!” he grinned, licking his lips. “When will it be done?”

Yuri smiled, heart warm knowing that Victor was excited about anything Yuri would do for him. The man before him truly knew no boundary of love. It was endless and all centred on him. Sometimes it felt unreal for the Japanese man to at the receiving end but regardless, he appreciated it anyway.

“Not long, I was hoping to surprise you but you came home too quickly!”

“Want me to help?” the Russian asked before placing a soft, tender kiss on Yuri’s lip. “I love helping you cook.”

Yuri nodded his head. “Start the rice? It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Of course,” Victor agreed, giving the younger man a final peck on the cheek before grabbing the rice and putting it in the pan to boil. “Yuri, I might grab a shower if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Yuri smiled. “I’ll serve up dinner when it’s done.”

Victor grabbed Yuri by the hips, taking his lover in his hold and placing his hand on his lover’s jaw. “I love you Yuri, you are the only reason my life has become wonderful. Nothing on earth compares to being with you.”

Yuri pushed himself forwards, kissing the older man with a passionate as the city was busy. “I love you too,” he whispered, before watching Victor turn around and exited the kitchen.

Makkachin looked at Yuri expectedly and the young man instantly felt himself give in. He reached into the draw under the counter top and grabbed a dog biscuit. As his eyes wondered back up, he caught the photo frame next to the onions. Inside was a photo of Vichann, his childhood best friend with four paws and a wagging tail. He always wondered if the two dogs would get along, and then he reassured himself they would, because his life was perfect.

He gave Makkachin the treat and returned to the cooking.

He looked around to the kitchen door when he heard it swing open, surprised. Victor had said he was going to shower, so when his eyes laid upon someone much older, his heart stopped.

The man was tall, taller than himself, and aged with silver hair, but Yuri couldn’t make out the features of his face. It was as though it was all one big flesh toned blur.

“Who are you?” he asked, stepping backwards from the mysterious man.

“Yuri? Yuri what are you….oh my god-”

Yuri looked in the direction that the old man was focused on and jumped backwards. The pork inside the pan was charcoal black, with plumes of smoke raising from the burnt meat. His body shook with terror- a moment ago the meat had barely been put in the pan, and now it had crisped into blackness.

The corner of his eyes caught the old man moving and he lunged towards the drawer. He pulled out a large knife and waved it at the man, attempting to scare him off and force him to leave his home. “Victor!” Yuri called, almost close to tears as the man raised his hands. “Victor!”

“Yuri stop put down the knife-”

Yuri jabbed the metal at him as the man stepped closer, arms extended out in front of him. Yuri had never seen him in his life, but somehow, he knew his first name and how to get into the apartment with trouble. He looked around the kitchen. Makkachin was gone.

“Where’s Makkachin?” he demanded, stepping forwards in an attempt to intimidate the man.

“Makkachin? Yuri, Makkachin died-”

“What the fuck did you do to my dog?” Yuri screamed as the words registered in his mind. There was no way Makkachin was dead, he was just here a second ago. The man must have taken him as he broke in. There was no other explanation.

“Yuri please-” the old man sobbed, trying to reach for the pan.

The Japanese man stuck the knife towards him, cutting through the fabric of the elder man’s sweater and drawing blood. “I don’t know who the fuck you are but get out of my house!” He stepped forward, revelling at the sight of the old man stepping backwards, cursing at the blood oozing out the gash on his arm.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Another person called, ripping the kitchen door open to assess the commotion. Behind her stood a burly man in a uniform.

“Oh my god dad are you okay?” The young woman cried. She looked familiar, Yuri realised, but he didn’t know how. She had silver hair and eyes as blue as the ocean. Her mouth was shaped oddly, almost like a heart.

Yuri watched as she grabbed her father’s arm, cursing in Russian at sight of the wound. He held the knife tightly in his hand and stared at the group before him. If he was quick enough, he could dart through them and run. He would find Victor and Makkachin and escape the apartment.

He darted forward quickly, pushing the woman away from him as he attempted to maneuver past her. Unexpectedly, the burly man wrapped his arms around him, and held him tight against his chest.

The young woman quickly left the room, retrieving a bag from elsewhere. She unzipped the bag.

“Calm down,” she begged, looking into his eyes. “It’s okay we’re not here to hurt you. Just calm down and we can talk okay? We’ll explain everything.”

Yuri thrashed about, unwilling to compromise. They had entered his home without permission. They had taken his dog. They had disrupted his evening meal with his soon to be fiancé.

Fiancé.

He noticed suddenly the ring inside of his pocket had been snatched, taken without him even knowing.

“Where is it?!” he demanded, his attempts to free himself becoming more wild than a beast.

“Where is what?” the woman asked confused.

Yuri’s eyes darted over the woman and elder man furiously. That’s when he noticed the ring. His promise to his lover, on another man finger.

“Give it back!” he squealed, tears falling from his eyes. “Give me back his ring. That’s my husband’s you theif!”

The man looked taken aback, hurt clouding his own eyes.

The woman shook her head and sighed. “Hold him still,” she mumbled before grabbing a bottle. She opened the cap and tipped it over, a tiny pill falling out the open end. She moved closer to him and opened his mouth, careful to avoid her fingers going dangerously close to his teeth. She placed the pill at the back of his throat.

Despite his attempts to spit it out, he swallowed the pill and cried, scared of what was to happen to him next. He wanted his husband. He wanted Victor to be with him, cuddling him as he slept on his torso, watching the late-night television they had left on by accident. He wanted to feel his lovers’ fingers play with his hair as they both drifted off to sleep. He wanted to be home.

As he watched the woman crowd the older man, his head began to feel dizzy. A sudden sense of calm rushed over him and he lulled himself into a deep sleep. A blackness overcame him, and he allowed it to take over.

 

-

When he awoke, he was in his bedroom. He was tucked neatly into bed and dressed in his pyjamas. He rose slowly, the dizziness still at large as moved about. Slowly, cautiously, he climbed out of the bed and stared at the window left slightly open to allow a breeze into the room. No doubt, Victor had left it open. That man didn’t know the meaning of cold.

He stumbled slowly over to the mirror, feeling the aches and pains in his joints with each step. When he looked at his reflection, he gasped. Tears fell down his face in confusion. In the mirror, stood an elderly man with his eyes, his lips, his cheeks and hair. It was a version of him, forty years into the future.

The wrinkles on his face were deep-set and his skin red cracked with dry skin. His hair was thinner than before, and his body had been let go seemingly years previous. The rolls on his hips filled him with shame and his eyes watered as he realised the truth.

“Yuri,” a soft voice called from the bedroom door. Behind it, peaking into the room was the same elderly man from before. Except now, he could make out the features of his face. The oceanic eyes, the pointy nose, the heart shaped mouth.

“Victor,” he whimpered, unsure of what was happening. “Victor what’s going on?”

The old man stepped into the room, distraught at the sight of his lover in distress. “You’re not very well,” he sighed, moving to stand in front of his lover. “You’ve been ill for some time now Yuri.”

“I forgot who you were,” the Japanese man sniffled. “Have I done that before?”

Victor nodded solemnly, linking their fingers together. “Sometimes.”

“We have a daughter,” he stated, surprising himself as he spoke the word.

“Our beautiful princess,” Victor smiled, stepping forwards. “How are you feeling?” the Russian asked, concern in his voice.

“Dizzy,” Yuri sighed, feeling as though the room was spinning. He stared into his lover’s eyes and shook his head. He reached out to hold Victor’s shoulders and sighed contentedly when the older man pulled him closer. Victor began slowly moving from left to right, coaxing Yuri in a state of calm. “I can’t remember when we last danced Victor, it’s all a blur.”

Victor nodded his head as he raised a hand to brush Yuri’s hair away from his forehead. “Every night before I tuck you into bed, we dance. We dance all night sometimes.”

Yuri dropped his head onto Victor’s shoulder. He closed his eyes. “You look after me so well Victor,” he hummed, thinking of how lucky he was to be with such an incredible man.

“I promised you I will adore you till the end of my life Yuri, and I intend to keep that promise.”

Yuri hummed again. Beside him, he heard the soft panting of Makkachin on the bed. “Victor, I’m so sorry I burnt dinner,” he sighed, remembering the charcoaled meat on the pan. “I wanted to make it special for you.”

“Make what special?” Victor asked, his cheek now rested on Yuri’s head.

“I wanted to give you the proposal you deserved. I wanted to give you the ring tonight because it’s our anniversary and I’ve ruined it.”

“Have you asked me yet Yuri?” Victor asked, swaying their bodies in harmony.

Yuri’s eyes gleamed as he looked up to his lover. His youthful eyes filled with more wisdom tan Yuri could understand. “Will you marry me Victor?” he asked, eyes searching intently for any sign of rejection.

Victor kissed him, his soft lips meeting Yuri’s. “I would be honoured Yuri. I would marry you over and over again given the chance, no matter what.”

Yuri giggled and snuggled into Victor’s arms. “I can’t wait to grow old together.”

“Me neither,” Victor smiled into Yuri’s hair. “I love you Yuri.”

“I love you too Victor.”


End file.
